


Ruins

by FiendMaz



Series: Oceans Will Part In This War Of Hearts [19]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alec Lightwood & Jace Wayland Friendship, BAMF Alec Lightwood, BAMF Magnus Bane, Canon-Typical Violence, Downworlder Politics, Jace Wayland Feels, Jealous Alec, Jealousy, M/M, Maryse Lightwood Being An Asshole, Misunderstandings, Parabatai Feels, Possessive Magnus Bane, Protective Alec Lightwood, Protective Magnus Bane, Supportive Jace Wayland
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 03:38:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8874280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FiendMaz/pseuds/FiendMaz
Summary: Alec and Jace finally have a serious talk with one another that Magnus unfortunately misunderstands. And, to make matters worse, Valentine launches an offensive against the Shadow World of New York and everyone is left with casualties.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to FanGirl18, pansyzzabini, shiverandshake, tears_0f_ink, ProngsPadfootnMooneyCo, Telepath95, letspringles, valfromrome, PrettyGirlBPD, umbra_lunae, and OspreyEamon for showering this series with all your kudos!
> 
> Double shout-out to valfromrome for the many comments! Keep 'em coming!
> 
> A very merry welcome to all my new readers! And to everyone, thanks for your patience :)
> 
> Up ahead is a roller coaster of emotions and actions in the Shadow World! I hope the length and everything else will make up for how long it's taken me to write/post this. Enjoy!
> 
> __  
> This series is set in the Shadowhunters (TV) world so some things aren't as it is in the book but those that aren't touched upon by the show yet are based on book canon as obtained through the Shadowhunters wikia. The rest are written with liberty.

Magnus stood at the edge of the riverbank, his cloak billowing out behind him from the harsh cold winds. His golden-green cat eyes were shining with power as he looked at the scene before him.

There was an unnatural hush that surrounded his vicinity. Raphael, Luke and Praetor Scott all standing on either side of him similarly gazing at the wide and tall ship before them. No words whispered, not a sigh nor a gasp. They had not imagined that finding the ship would be so easy and they weren’t prepared.

Below them, by their feet, the flapping of an exquisite pearl pink tail splashing at the shallow water reminded them of the mermaid’s help and what it would cost if they decided to wait until they were ready for the battle.

For days there had been relative peace; hours filled with meetings and stolen moments with Alexander. So many rewarding moments of each day that both of them spent together. After he had saved the golden wonder, he had his doubts especially because he hadn’t forgotten the lack of comment on his confession and, most importantly, that reaction Alexander had in the cab.

As an immortal, however, he knew that it was best to live in the moment so he did. He pushed his worries away and simply allowed himself to believe that his relationship with Alexander was going strong. And it was easy to do so in the beginning.

The first few days had made him optimistic that they actually could spare time for each other whilst not abandoning their work until Lydia had called him to rat out Alexander’s new habit of pulling all-nighters – despite everything he had said about relaxing – to make time for them. Magnus had been flattered and furious at the same time.

After confronting the Shadowhunter, Alexander started to bring some reports to the loft so they could do their respective work together and proved that he could – astoundingly – compete with Magnus in stubbornness. A feat Ragnor would surely have been amused with.

Unfortunately, that method worked for only two days because the world was against Magnus’ happiness. As always.

Demon activity spiked up to a concerning level so much so that the Institute formally called in a favour to the Downworlders for help. (The vampires took on that job as they had the most number between the races.) Then, Blondie’s trial was unjustly extended (probably in retaliation to the previous decision) though with less prohibition which meant that Alec’s time was further eaten up by parabatai training.

He didn’t let it bother him since it wasn’t like Alexander was favouring Blondie or choosing to finish off non-urgent Nephilim tasks instead. They were simply both busy with urgent matters just as Magnus had predicted from the very start.

What he failed to predict was how much they would see each other for work-related reasons. Alexander was the appointed representative to the Downworlders and thus was present for at least one of the meetings they had each day. Granted, there was no time for _them_ but it was better than nothing. Luke was the representative of the Downworlders so there were far less occasions wherein Magnus was present at the Institute.

In fact, he was mostly there for important announcements – once in the span of two weeks –, the strengthening of the wards and when his broad knowledge was needed. Despite that, Magnus had seen enough of Alexander in action as the Head of the Institute to get an aroused rush from remembering certain moments. The most important and exquisite of which being the pleasure of seeing Maryse’s sour expression when her own son threatened to banish her from the Institute.

The whole affair had lit a fire inside of Magnus and he didn’t bother to restrain himself from lunging at Alexander afterwards. He had dragged the boy into a private room for a hot and messy make-out session. To this day, the memory was fresh in his mind. He could still taste the boy’s tongue on his, those plump lips pressed against him and the sweet voice uttering his name along with the satisfying knowledge that Maryse Lightwood was put in place by Alexander.

Yes, he held that memory most closely to his heart.

_BAAANG!!!_

Magnus let out a great exhale. His slit cat eyes dilated and pierced through the night straight to the disturbance on the ship. A figure was thrown off and hurtled downwards with a great splash. Black spindly arms rose up to grab the struggling individual before the water calmed.

“Human.” Raphael sniffed.

“Probably got scared and fired his gun.” Luke commented. “They really don’t care for mundane weaponry. No sense of self-preservation at all. Valentine has gotten too arrogant.”

“He has a reason to be: a disposable army of Shadowhunters.” Praetor shook his head. “We may win regardless but the casualties…”

Magnus closed his eyes briefly and licked at his bottom lip. “Inevitable.” He whispered into the air, so lowly that no mundane would have heard. “What are our options?”

Praetor let out a great sigh. “If we fight now, we will suffer a great loss. If we don’t, we will suffer a great loss. We have no options. We must lose first to lessen the total loss.”

“The Institute will need to be informed.”

Magnus turned to Luke and gestured towards the ship where a whole mass of silhouettes could be seen milling about. “Clary will face them. You know she will. And so will my Alexander.”

“You and I both know that they won’t forgive us if we protect them from this battle.”

“And if we all die, they’ll blame themselves so there’s that.” An obnoxiously loud voice pointed out oh so helpfully.

Magnus pivoted on his spot sharply and jabbed at the chest of the vampire behind him whom he had conveniently forgotten about. “Quiet, Signal. You’ll alert them to our presence and believe me, when they come, I will leave you as prey.”

“That’s just mean.”

“The mermaid has gone.” Praetor announced solemnly. “But she warns that there’s no guarantee that they won’t lose sight of the ship. So far, one of them has died. Bitten by a water spider demon.”

Magnus turned his attention away from the fledgling before him to gaze at the ship once more. “One death is fortunate considering…” He ran a hand through his hair and carelessly leaned back to slump against Raphael – the Clan leader grumbled.

“Can’t we use tracking technology?”

“Here we go.” Raphael muttered under his breath, making Magnus chuckle a little.

“I’m serious!” One look at the baby vampire confirmed that an indignant pout graced the boy’s rather handsome features. “We can have the mermaids chuck a device in where it won’t be noticed and we can track their exact location every second using that!”

“Tracking technology is tricky, Simon.” Luke said gently. “There are many blind spots especially when tracking something outside of land. It’s not as reliable as someone tailing the ship.”

Magnus snorted. _Tailing_. Yeah, there was a lot of _tailing_ going on.

“Yeah but DARPA has been developing the ASPN to address problems like that! The ASPN should be able to track even when the target is in buildings, underground or underwater, and in deep foliage!”

“DARPA? ASPN?” Luke looked incredibly confused.

“Alright.” Magnus pulled himself upright and gestured for the rest of them to follow him. “It won’t do to hang around here waiting for our deaths. Let’s go somewhere safer.”

Raphael scoffed. “Pandemonium?”

“No, actually.” Magnus gave his old friend a scathing glare. “Alexander has informed me that some Clave members have been snooping around my club so it’s best that we move this party back to my loft.”

“Hey! What about ASPN?”

Magnus rolled his eyes and snapped a portal into existence. He gestured grandly towards it and when it came to the fledgling’s turn, he upturned his lips into a smirk. “ASPN later, Suss.” The offended look he got in return as well as the loud yelp that came after he pushed the vampire into the portal amused him greatly.

“Personally, I’d like to hear more about this ASPN.” Praetor announced seriously after they had all settled down on the couches.

Raphael turned an incredulous look towards the werewolf. “Excuse me?”

“That reaction is exactly why I want to see if there’s any merit to what your fledgling is speaking of.”

Magnus sighed inaudibly when Raphael shot him a look as if to say ‘ _mine?’_ “No need to barb at each other.”

Praetor raised his palm. “I had no such intention. While most Downworlders do take pleasure in some of the mundane technology,” A nod to the television in the loft. “We ignore a large part of what they create for whatever reason.  The Nephilim on the other hand look down on mundanes as they look down on us. Therefore they don’t utilise mundane technology against their enemies much less think to protect against it.”

“Finally! Someone who appreciates us mundanes and what we have to offer.”

“No longer a mundane, baby.” Raphael reminded with bite.

Sandro made a face. “ASPN means All Source Positioning and Navigation. It’s basically the answer to the problems of the GPS.” The fledgling grinned when it became obvious from the looks on everyone’s faces that they knew what a GPS was. “It uses all sorts of signals like those from televisions, radio, cell towers and et cetera to maximise the scope of its access.”

“I’ve never heard of it.” Luke squinted. “Is the ASPN out of R&D?”

“Er… I think so. I mean, I don’t know for sure. The military gets first dibs literally all the time so if you know someone –,”

“What a waste of time this is.” Raphael muttered loudly.

“Now, now, Santiago.” Magnus placated. “As it so happens, I _do_ know someone from DARPA and yes, Sonata, I know what DARPA means. Don’t get so excited that you salivate all over my precious couch. That’s fine leather you are sitting on.”

“ _You know someone from DARPA_.” Smiggen’s eyes were wide, cheeks flushed. “Oh my g – gosh! You could totally do it like spy movies and get GPS trackers for all of you and then when you’re in danger, BAM, activate your distress signal and the rest will know to come help you! And, and, there are some devices that will help you talk to each other without magic even at far distances and -  Bombs! Why can’t we just bomb the ship? It’ll explode all our problems away! I'm a genius. You can thank  –,”

Luke slapped a large hand over the fledgling’s mouth.

“Well, I’ll see what I can do.” Magnus smirked, his eyes twinkling. Praetor made a great point and the new vampire was making great suggestions. Perhaps there was an advantage to using mundane technology to help them without magic. After all, magic was always the first to be thought of when it came to protecting against enemies. “Let me add some underwater technology to help us along, shall I?”

Under the hand, the fledgling made a scream of approval.

“He had a point with the bombs.” Luke said thoughtfully. “You did mention it before, Magnus – as a joke, yeah, but effective mundane inventions we can utilise aren’t limited to technology.”

“Bbbmfff!”

“Oh, sorry, Simon.”

The fledgling waved a hand to dismiss the apology. “Bombs! Like I said earlier, we can just bomb the ship. The mermaids can throw the bombs in and no one would need to board –,”

“You do realise that the mundanes will hear that bomb go off, Shelly?” Magnus raised a brow. “Not only that, we wouldn’t even know if Valentine manages to escape or not.”

“That said, I’m sure we can all agree that there are advantages to correctly incorporating mundane weaponry and technology.” Praetor looked round between them all.

Magnus shrugged. “Suman and Luke can discuss that and I’ll acquire what’s needed afterwards. In the meantime,” He stood up fluidly and summoned a box from the dusty forgotten corner in one of his closets. “These are rings I made back when the terror of the Circle was at its peak to keep tabs on the well-being of my friends.” The small jewelleries floated up from the box to the occupants of the room save the fledgling.

“What is it they do?”

“They are the warlock equivalent to distress signals.” Magnus explained. “I assign each of you a colour. For example," He tapped the black gem on the plain ring he held and it glowed blue. “Whenever the bearer is in danger, the magic in the ring will sense it and the gems on the rest will pulsate with the corresponding colour.”

Luke inserted the small jewellery to his left ring finger. “How about the location?”

“Does it contain GPS inside?” The fledgling wondered with a touch of awe.

“When it pulsates, you simply have to touch the gem and allow it to take energy from you. Once it establishes a connection, you’ll be able to see an approximate location.” Magnus stepped up to look and tapped the gem. It glowed green. “I thought it would be fitting.” He mused before moving over to Raphael and doing the same. This time, the gem glowed red. He raised a brow at Scott. “Yellow, perhaps?”

Praetor shrugged and the gem glowed like the sun.

“Brilliant.” Magnus clapped his hands. “Well then, gentlemen, let’s scatter. Luke, feel free to stay and discuss the plans with baby vampire. Raphael, the next meeting will be held at the Dumort. Do ensure that no fights will break out upon the arrival of the werewolves.” He inclined his head to Luke who shot him a grateful look. “And Praetor,”

The head of Praetor House raised a brow.

“I’ll have that meeting with Lydia booked… tomorrow when the Clave finally leaves so you can get a fresh insight into the workings of the Institute.” Magnus beamed when the other nodded and he quickly opened up a portal. “Now we’re all settled, I’m going to catch up on my beauty sleep.”

He instantly left for his bedroom and prepped himself for sleep along the way; his glamours disappeared, his clothes melted into snug silk pyjamas, his face cleared of makeup and his mouth bubbled with toothpaste foam for a few beats before clearing away. By the time he hit his bed, Magnus was dressed and washed and out like a light.

It was sad to note that this wasn’t an unusual occurrence.

 

*~*~*~*

 

Routines were a way of life for Alec. Especially in the mornings when Jace would moan about life and Izzy would shuffle around not wanting to leave her bed. He would wake up before the crack of dawn, make rounds, check what’s pulled up on the screens in the ops centre then work through the reports pile in the office until lunch.

It made his life easy, predictable and flexible. Qualities that Alec appreciated very much for it meant he could easily make time for his siblings’ crazy whims and, the new addition to his priorities, Magnus. Or not so new. It was crazy how fast time flew. Months ago he was the same old Alec forever supressing himself under the weight of expectations and shame.

Some days, dark days, he wished that he was back in that period of time. If only so he wouldn’t have Valentine to worry about and all the chaos that came with the Circle as well as the shattered image he had of his parents. But it made no sense because every time he wished so, it was because he was fearing for Magnus’ life as a prominent Downworlder, and going back would mean Magnus wouldn’t be in his life.

No Magnus. _That_ would be worse than facing a war.

Still, Alec thought as he entered the infirmary, he really hated having the Circle’s presence looming in his daily life. The infirmary was a dreary place to begin with. One where no good memories were made and no decent Shadowhunter would want to end up in. It was white-washed and so empty of life that it almost seemed like a prison.

These days though the infirmary was _technically_ full of life. If full of life meant that the place contained living, breathing Shadowhunters forced to stay in bed due to injuries. What was once a place that was scarcely entered was now half-full. Alec hated it. Not only because he felt it meant he was failing his people as the Head of the Institute but also because he felt so helpless.

Demon activity had increased tenfold and no matter what strategies he and Lydia came up with, every team came back with injuries. Today, they were entering the sixth day since and though he had to admit that teams returned worse back when they didn’t have the vampires covering certain parts of the city (which was certainly an improvement), it was no less alarming.

The Clave hadn’t helped his stress level at all when they extended Jace’s trial for no good reason. He suspected it was because they couldn’t do anything to him and Lydia about allying with the Downworlders that they punished his parabatai. He suspected while Magnus was entirely convinced it was fact.

Magnus.

Alec suppressed a sigh. He hadn’t seen the warlock outside of work in ages. It crushed him more than he was willing to admit. It seemed that he was less able to cope with everything – his parents, the Clave, Jace’s trial – without Magnus’ comforting hugs and kisses and words. Texting wasn’t enough nor were phone calls. He missed the warlock so much that it ached his heart.

The Shadowhunter on shift in the infirmary handed him an aid kit and he nodded his thanks. He took one last sweeping look before leaving for Jace’s room. On top of everything, the Clave had deemed Jace innocent enough to go on patrol which Lydia said was code for punishment, letting his parabatai fight in the thick of danger after a few days of no training. Alec thought it was essentially code for suicide.

He wasn’t happy.

Thus, he started training with Jace, rigorously. Which was one of the many reasons why he didn’t have time to meet up with Magnus. What did he say to the warlock when the word ‘busy’ came up? Oh yeah, he said that _“there’s always time”_.

Alec slammed his parabatai’s door open with too much strength and winced when a loud _thud_ resounded along the whole hallway, startling the sluggish Shadowhunters walking through.

“What the hell, man!”

Normally, he’d feel bad and start apologising but his parabatai deserved the rude wake-up call for being reckless the night before. He glared. “That’s for your dumb ass jumping in front of Clary to take a blow you could have easily parried if you were in your right mind.” Alec left the door ajar and sat on the edge of the bed. “Sit up.”

Jace grumbled. “Clary was in danger.”

Alec didn’t deem his parabatai with a reply. He simply set to work re-bandaging and tracing _iratze_ runes all while keeping an ear out for conversations going on outside as Shadowhunters passed the room. It was a habit that he had developed after publicly warning off Maryse and Raj in order to gain insight into what the Institute’s people were thinking.

The first few conversations he caught had been riddled with shock and awe.

After that, their talks were more reflective of what their usual topics revolved around. The young Shadowhunters were relaxing to eavesdrop on as they always had good words about him and Lydia. Some, surprisingly enough, gushed about Magnus Bane and how ‘cool’ he was. Clary said they were showing signs of mundane _stanning_ and _shipping_ , whatever those meant. The older ones were a bit sceptical although they followed orders like good soldiers would anyway.

Then there were those odd mix of people – old, young, Clave members and everyone in between – who were, like Izzy, being very nosy about his relationship with Magnus.

Thankfully however, nowadays everyone was murmuring about the places they think had the highest demon activity and about Valentine. It was good to hear that they had become more worried about the problems their world was facing rather than gossiping about him and Magnus.

"Hey Alec," Jace sounded oddly hesitant. "Do you remember the last time we fought?"

Alec frowned, unpleasant memories of him marching Meliorn to the Silent Brothers surfaced in his mind. "Yes."

"Right. Uh." Jace sighed and ran a rough hand past his face. "Damn. I should've gone and asked Izzy to meddle in this."

Alec raised a brow.

"Look Alec, you're my brother. I don't know if you understand that I support you no matter what. Mentioning your crush on me was a low blow and, by the Angel, I'm so sorry." Jace's voice was a bit wet. "Every time I saw our parabatai rune when I was with Valentine that was the one memory I kept reliving, regretting.”

"Jace..." Alec floundered a bit and his cheeks reddened as he remembered that, yes, his brother _had_ mentioned his unnatural attraction during the fight. His stomach churned unpleasantly. He had blissfully forgotten and he didn’t need a reminder. Not now. Not ever.

"No, Alec, parabatai, let me finish." Jace clenched his fists and looked up from where he sat to face Alec head-on. "I never meant to tell you in that way like it was something shameful or wrong. Our bond, it's strong. I barely felt you through the rune but you were there with me always. I could hear you lecture me and reprimand me as if you were beside me. You kept me fighting."

Alec frowned and felt a lump form in his throat but his parabatai wasn't done.

"You're always there, Alec." Jace grinned, strained. "You're the first person to truly see me and accept me. You're my parabatai. You’re closer than blood. That won't ever change."

"Yeah." Alec said inadequately. "Yeah, Jace. Whatever happens. You’ll always be my parabatai." He blinked rapidly, furiously disallowing himself to tear up. "With or without a rune.”

"Alright." Jace cut-off the semi-ramble. "By the Angel, Alec. This is the time where you hug me and tell me you love me so I can do the same then we can move on."

Alec rolled his eyes. " _You_ hug me and tell me you love me so I can do the same then _you_ can move on. I've moved on long ago if you haven't noticed."

Jace huffed but stood up and roughly grabbed Alec upright for a big bear hug. "I love you, Alec!"

"I love you, Jace!" Alec mimicked, slightly sarcastically – not that it was noticeable. He clapped his brother's back once, twice then started to squirm. "When are you planning on letting me go?"

"I'm thinking."

"Think on someone else." Alec retorted.

Jace hugged him tighter. "Wanna kiss?"

"Oh by the Angel! What part of 'I've moved on long ago' don't you understand?"

"The part where you moved on. No one can move on when it comes to me. I'm irresistible." Jace mumbled a tad bit petulantly. "You'll have to kiss me then tell me you've moved on before I believe you."

"I don't care if you don't believe me, Jace." Alec shoved his parabatai to no effect. Must be all that sitting down in the office. He should train more. "I'm not kissing you. Let me go."

"Kiss me!"

"What is going on in here?"

Alec sighed at hearing his sister's voice and shifted to lean his entire weight on his brother in resignation. With Izzy here, he was looking at an hour of back and forth banter.

"Jace. Why are you hanging off your _taken_ brother like a damn koala and why are you demanding him to kiss you? Are you that desperate without Clary's affection?" Izzy tapped her shoes against the floor, the _tack, tack, tack_ sound loud inside the room. "Your voice carried outside the hallway which, by the way Alec, Magnus was walking along just a minute ago."

At that, Alec's eyes widened impossibly and he forcefully threw his brother off him.

Jace landed on the bed with an 'oof' and a disgruntled expression.

"Where's Magnus now?" Alec asked quickly as he shot his sister a rather desperate look. He didn't want to think about what the warlock heard. It was probably bad if Izzy was tempted into entering Jace's room when it was her time to supervise the ops centre.

Izzy grimaced. "On his way to Lydia's office to get payment."

Alec darted out of the room before his sister even finished her sentence and was barrelling through the corridor as Izzy's voice floated after him.

"Perhaps you shouldn't confront him now! He's in a foul mood!"

"You better kiss me later! Ow! What the hell, Izzy!"

Alec paused by the sharp turn of the hallway to glare at his parabatai. Trust Jace to be completely inappropriate and unable to read moods at the worst of times. He was going to give his parabatai hell if this put a wedge on his developing relationship with Magnus.

He briskly walked through the direct path towards the office with a jittery sense of urgency. In the distance, he could already see the ops centre and frowned at the deadly silence. His steps turned hurried, the distant figures morphing into discernible Shadowhunters who were most definitely facing the office with tension on their shoulders.

That didn’t bode well.

He started to jog when, at the end of the corridor, he saw a familiar scene. Maryse and Lydia having a heated conversation outside the Head office with the addition of Magnus looking positively murderous on the side. The last few bits he heard Marsye spitting out made his blood boil.

“ _– pathetic little demon child!_ ”

“How _dare_ you?” Alec growled, beyond furious as he gently pushed Magnus behind him. “Magnus is _not_ a demon.”

“As a Lightwood, you should know better, Alexander.”

Alec drew himself to his full height and glowered. “ _Lightwood_.” He spat the name. “Every day, you give me reason to wish more and more that I wasn’t cursed with the same name as you.”

Maryse looked taken aback but pulled herself back together quickly. “Has that warlock completely bewitched you?”

“No, Maryse.” Alec denied coldly. “I have seen _sense_ the moment _I_ walked into _his_ life. I have seen more sense than you have in your miserably long life despite the second chance you got from cowardly running to the Clave scared for your life instead of any moral high ground.”

Alec stepped closer. “Don’t you _dare_ speak to me about knowing better when you know _nothing_. For years I have followed you, obeyed your orders and put aside my own opinions and desires and for _what_?!” He lowered his head until an inch was left between his face and his mother’s. “For _nothing_ , that’s what. Because all you two saw were yourselves. Yourselves and your fragile reputations. Never once noting that without me you’d have nothing.”

Seething, Alec stepped away, putting a feet of distance from him and the Lightwood matriarch. “Without me, you would have had no Jace or Isabelle or Max. No way of leaving this Institute to parade your political agenda, manipulating whoever you could along the way.” He drained his face of all emotion. “Without me, you wouldn’t be alive. No one to exploit for a better judgement by the Clave.”

Maryse stumbled backwards, her face ashen. “You know about that?” She asked in a deathly whisper.

Alec smirked cruelly. “I know a lot. I dug up any information I could. It would have been a chance for me to re-establish my beliefs in both of you if your actions weren’t so unforgivable. It’s disgusting how the Clave treats Shadowhunters more leniently than they do Downworlders as if having Angel blood makes us better.”

Maryse’s face twisted into a cold judgement. “It does make us better.”

“No, that’s where you’re wrong.” Alec took another step back. “Look at yourselves then look at Magnus. He is so much better than the both of you, than even just one of you.” He held up a hand to stop her from speaking. “Leave us. We have work to do.” With that, he turned around, a soft apologetic expression overtaking his angry features. “You’re here.”

Magnus looked back with a neutral expression. “I am.”

Alec gestured for them all to step into the office and closed the door behind him. His eyes desperately bore into the back of the warlock’s head as the other opened up a portal. Izzy was right, Magnus was in a mood. There was no greeting kiss or hug, no hello. He needed to know whether it was because the warlock overheard and misunderstood or because the morning started wrongly but he didn’t want to have a discussion with Lydia there. He didn’t even know how to start one. “Magnus –,”

“Shall we?”

“I –,” Alec shut his mouth when Magnus entered the portal without waiting. He sighed heavily. On second thought, the warlock definitely overheard and misunderstood. There’s no way Magnus wouldn’t want a hug after a bad morning unless it was him the warlock was mad at. “Fucking Jace.”

 

*~*~*~*

 

The crowd occupying the open space outside of Jade Wolf was larger than usual, consisting not only of warlocks and the werewolves of Luke’s pack but also those of Praetor’s. Oddly enough, it was the first time any of the leaders would be meeting the members of Praetor House.

Magnus stepped out of his portal with a schooled emotionless mask, the events of the Institute shoved to the back of his mind until such a time he could be bothered to open that case of wretched envy. His eyes swept over the crowd as he forced his shoulders to relax and he stepped right up beside Praetor, the latter now at the centre between him and Luke.

He felt his portal shift and Alexander move to stand by his back with a few metres in between them. The action would have hurt him if he didn’t know that it was Alexander’s way of showing respect towards the Downworlder leaders and him.

“This is unbecoming of one from Praetor House such as yourself.” Luke said coldly.

It was then that Magnus noticed how tense his fellow leaders were and the female werewolf not so noticeably stood apart from the crowd with a twisted expression on her face. Without any context whatsoever, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that the argument was about the Nephilim involvement. It seemed that though Praetor was agreeable to the Clave’s involvement, his people didn’t hold the same sentiment.

"We may be here but don't kid yourselves into thinking we agree with what you're doing fraternising with the enemy.”

The female werewolf and those around her glared at Magnus or perhaps they were glaring at Alexander. Either way, Magnus wasn’t having it. This was too much like the scene he had narrowly escaped at the Institute with the lovely Maryse thanks to Alexander appearing at the right time before he lost control and blasted the damn Nephilim straight to her grave. He couldn’t get one semblance of peace whether he was at the Institute or with Downworlders. “Some of them are trying to change their ways and it’d be foolish to not encourage them.” He replied just as coldly as Luke earlier. “Besides, we all know that cooperating with the Clave is a necessary evil.”

“That Nephilim may not be a part of the Circle but you and I both know he carries the blood of murderers inside of him."

Magnus grit his teeth and slid to the side to fully block Alexander from view. He had no need to look back to know that the boy had become deathly still. "We do not put blame on someone for sins not their own. It is not a thing to be inherited."

"What do you call his act of marching a Seelie Knight to death then? A sad mistake?" The female werewolf sneered.

Alexander inhaled sharply from behind. Clearly, that had hit a nerve.

Magnus’ eyes flashed in anger. "Perhaps not." He said softly. "But we are all susceptible to being blinded by loyalty without reason or compassion."

"You'd say the same even if that Shadowhunter killed the Seelie Knight." The female werewolf spat.

"How can we rely on you to protect us?" Asked a concerned-looking warlock. Jasmine was her name, possibly. A fairly new warlock; young at the age of a century or so. Too young, perhaps, to understand that she was challenging him by questioning him.

The female werewolf stepped forward menacingly. "Where does your loyalty lie, High Warlock of Brooklyn?"

Blue magic sparked from Magnus’ hand, intense enough to make some of the Downworlders in the crowd to flinch back and Praetor moved forward, finally reacting, but Magnus shot his arm out to physically block the other from doing anything. For once, he sincerely wished that Alexander wasn't here with him. Yet, he was also mildly thankful for the boy's presence. His fingers were itching to blast the werewolf with a spell for daring to speak so insolently towards him but he also understood that his answer was important for his people – especially the young ones such as Jasmine. "I do not condone to murder nor do I ever forgive anyone of the act."

"What of your loyalty, High Warlock?"

"My loyalty is not anyone's to demand." Magnus replied frigidly. "As the High Warlock of Brooklyn however it is my duty to protect the warlocks under my care. With this alliance, it is my duty to fight for all the Downworlders who join us." He twisted the special ring he had on. "That stands for all of the leaders. Were we indifferent to the sufferings of the Downworlders, there would be no alliance. And I wouldn't be here graciously pardoning your blatant disregard for my position."

Jasmine bowed her head in apology.

" _Remember your place_." Magnus injected his High Warlock of Brooklyn voice with power enough to cause the whole crowd before him to stagger where they stood. He raised a brow at the stubborn female werewolf who tried to withstand the magic and utterly failed at doing so until she finally knelt on one knee. "You're all dismissed.”

“I sincerely apologise.”

Magnus turned a startled look towards Praetor only to see that his fellow leader hadn’t directed the words to him but rather to Alexander. He blinked and turned towards the boy who looked similarly surprised yet grateful.

“No, I understand.” Alexander gave a wry smile. “Is there anything I can do so that they may start to trust us? It’ll be hard to fight a war together otherwise…”

“Trust?” Praetor repeated, looking out of sorts.

“I agree. That’s a bit of a stretch, Alec.” Magnus commented. “Perhaps lower your goal to having them believe the Nephilim won’t kill them when given the chance.” Alexander looked at him, pained, and he shifted his attention to Luke to avoid the gaze. “I understand that you have given the new werewolves under you a chance to elect their own representative?”

Luke tilted his head in assent. “Yeah. I can’t deal with all the politics so it’s better this way.”

“You’ll be bringing more than one second-in-command from now on?”

“Yes.”

“Bring them later.” Magnus turned to Praetor. “Everyone has been briefed of the plans?”

“With the exception of the warlocks and vampires, yes. I have sent Raphael a fire message so he will be made aware once he wakes.”

Magnus nodded. “The warlocks are already mobile.”

“Those in my pack should be readying to leave by now.” Luke said as a howl echoed in the far distance.

Praetor turned to the noise in alarm. “Why are they in wolf form?”

“They aren’t supposed to be –,”

_Bzzzzt. Bzzzt._

Magnus tuned the two leaders out to glance at Alexander answering the phone. The boy was as gorgeous as the first time he had laid eyes on him. A sort of beauty that pulled you in and made you yearn. He was a hopeless romantic to begin with so having this attraction towards someone who reciprocated in every way except in the most important way was heart-wrenching.

_Love. Cinta._

He knew what he was getting into when he pursued Alexander. There was no hiding the palpable attraction the boy had for Blondie. That dangerous, forbidden type of affection the oldest Lightwood seemed to have for the blonde parabatai. And then that unforgettable moment with Valak wherein he was given an insight into the boy’s emotions – denial, pain, regret, love and shame.

Yes, he knew exactly what he was getting into.

He couldn’t even bring himself to be mad. He was just upset. Over the past weeks, he had fooled himself into thinking that his confession had done something. That Alexander was learning to see him in the same view he did Blondie but the boy had said nothing to him that he could easily say to the parabatai.

Maybe it wouldn’t ever happen. In which case, he’d really have to miserably settle. It was rare enough to find someone that would evoke pure, raw emotions in him after the many centuries worth of being hurt, thrown away, and disregarded as well as being stagnant. It would be rarer still to find that same person to love him back.

Desire was so much easier.

Magnus sighed. There was a reason he decided to chase after a person’s body rather than their heart, after sex rather than love. So now what? He was stuck enamoured and attached to a Shadowhunter waiting for scraps of affection because there was no possibility of sex being on the list of activities they could do. At least not for a very long time.

He was exactly like a fool and a dog as Camille had always said he was. A perfect warlock pet.

If Ragnor were alive, his friend would grill him for making the same mistakes over and over again. Falling for people whose hearts were already taken. He hadn’t learned. He never did. What he wanted was what he wanted and that was it. He was a simpleton when it came to love. One who chased when his heart was ready, had been mended and healed enough to try again.

People called it positivity and related it to hope. To his friends, it was self-destruction and maybe this time around, when he surely gets his heart broken for the nth time, he would start believing them.

“Magnus!”

He startled out of his thoughts upon hearing his name and noted with a start that Alexander was standing far too close to him and the werewolf leaders were a few feet away staring at something with tension in their shoulders. Now that he thought about it, the place was eerily quiet.

His eyes shifted back to hazel ones and he shoved his new thoughts away. “Yes?”

“Something’s wrong at the Institute. Lydia wasn’t very clear. Can you portal me back?”

Alarm bells rang in Magnus’ head at the slight hysteria he could hear from the boy. “Of course.” He snapped his fingers and stepped back, his concern rising when he saw the bow and quiver appear on the boy. “Should I come with you?”

Alexander shot him a hopeful look marred only by the badly suppressed worry. “Please.”

The undercurrent plea was audible and Magnus didn’t know whether it was because of whatever was happening at the Institute or of how he’d been acting. Either way, discovering why wasn’t high on his priority. He gestured for Alexander to go first as he turned to bid goodbye to Luke and Praetor only to realise they weren’t there.

He looked around and saw that the whole place was not only eerily quiet, it was also eerily empty. His heart started to quicken its beat and he nearly jumped when firm long fingers wrapped around his wrist.

Alexander’s face was reflecting an intense war of emotions. The boy had noticed something was wrong here as well. “Magnus, let’s hurry.”

As if on cue, numerous howls and loud bangs could be heard from all directions.

Magnus stiffened, his magic sparking in preparation for battle. He was about to check the situation when the grip on his wrist tightened and suddenly, he was being dragged along. The boy stepped through the portal and Magnus caught the glint of something silver below the container he was stood upon.

His blood ran cold.

He quickly shoved Alexander through the portal and closed it – the tail end of an arrow clattered to the floor – in time for a seraph blade to swing right by his face. He jumped back and threw a ball of magic, gritting his teeth when the Circle member dodged it and two more others joined in the fight.

Three against one. How utterly unfair.

Magnus took a chance and jumped down from the container. He landed with a grunt and took off in a sprint, the Circle members hot at his heels. His magic swirled, blue wisps cloaking his body as his demonic nature came out to play. The glamour over his eyes dropped.

He ran past more containers, the cacophony growing louder and louder. And then, finally, he saw a large number of werewolves and warlocks battling against Forsakens a few ways away from the entrance of the Jade Wolf’s entrance by the edge of the wards.

A stinging pain brought Magnus to a halt and he swivelled around to face the Circle members that had been running after him. He grabbed the hilt of the dagger embedded into his lower right shoulder and pulled it out with a grimace.

The Circle members advanced, their seraph blades swinging menacingly.

Magnus threw the dagger, his magic sparked and made it split into three, and swiftly followed the attacks up with a series of magical blows. The enemies parried the dagger but staggered back against the consecutive blows. Though injured, they were still standing and ready to fight which wasn’t normal.

It abruptly made sense why the werewolves and warlocks weren’t able to easily massacre the Circle members. Valentine had done something to these Shadowhunters to make them stronger.

 _Fuck_.

 

*~*~*~*

 

The Institute was in chaos. Shadowhunters were running towards the entrance, their weapons drawn. Screams could be heard and the old Church shook, light fixtures swaying and dust falling from the ceilings in puffs, displaced.

Alec stumbled through the portal. He easily righted himself and turned around to see nothing but the rest of the Institute. He looked at the floor, saw a piece of a thin long wood rod and reflexively reached for his quiver. His hand patted the arrows and pulled out one of them that was cut in half.

His brows furrowed and he flexed his fingers, achingly empty of the wrist he held seconds ago. “ _Magnus_.” His heart thudded loudly in his chest, howls and bangs echoed inside his mind. An overwhelming urge to help Magnus threatened to overpower his duty as the Head of Institute but he quelled it. He had to be level-headed before he could accomplish anything.

He swept his eyes over his immediate vicinity with the Shadowhunters running out of the entrance. One of the ops centre’s screens showed a horde of pulsating circles indicating that a crowd was entering the Institute’s space. He took a deep breath and headed for the weapons room.

“ALEC!” Izzy shouted, frazzled, though one wouldn’t be able to tell from her perfectly put-together outfit and hair. She threw a seraph blade over that he gratefully took and marched over with Clary by her side. “How did it go with Magnus?”

“Really, Iz?” Jace’s incredulous voice asked from behind.

Alec turned to face his parabatai, a sliver of annoyance enveloped him as he remembered that things were uncertain between him and Magnus. “It didn’t _go_. We had a meeting and we didn’t have time to talk before I was called back here.” He glared at his parabatai.

Jace waved an uncaring hand. “You’re still kissing me later.”

Another strong force shook the Institute and reminded them of the urgency of their situation.

“Have any of you seen Lydia?” Alec asked. His siblings and Clary shook their heads. “Alright. You guys know what to do. I’m going to look for Lydia.” With that, he set off with a run through the corridors towards the library. It was the last place anyone would be and that was why he knew Lydia would be there.

There had been no indication that anything they had in the library would be of any use to the Circle members but nevertheless, it wouldn’t hurt to prevent them from taking anything at all. They failed once with the Mortal Cup, they wouldn’t let the Circle take anything more.

The library door was open when he entered and he rushed in to find Lydia storing away the precious pieces as expected. She looked up in attention and turned back to her work immediately. “Alec, how’d it go with Magnus?”

Alec activated his runes, took out his seraph blade and faced the entrance of the library, ready to fight in case someone breached the heavily guarded entrance of the Institute. “Terribly.” He murmured, his heart constricting with a myriad of emotions. “The members of Praetor House aren’t as accepting of Nephilim help as the rest.”

“I don’t think any of them are.” Lydia’s voice was closer now. “You and I both know the others won’t voice their opinions because of their leaders’ sentiments.”

“That says something about Praetor Scott then.” Alec stepped back to let Lydia through and briskly followed after her through the corridors. “We need to finish this fight quick. Magnus is in danger and I need to return to him.”

Lydia tensed then set off in a run to the office. They both reached their destination in record time and she immediately shoved the bag of precious items into the safe there. She locked it and turned to him. “Get your team and head over then.”

Alec startled. “What? No. The Institute is being attacked, Lydia. He’s important to me but I will only leave when this place is safe. Magnus is strong. He will be able to hold on until I reach him if he hasn’t destroyed the enemy already.”

“He’s the High Warlock of Brooklyn, Alec. This isn’t about him being strong enough to annihilate the enemy. It’s about him being strong, period.” Lydia took out her seraph blade from her thigh holster and activated it. “He and the rest of the leaders are targets. They die, it’s good for the Circle. They get captured, it’s good for the Circle. I know that you’re probably right and he’ll easily get rid of them. But what if he can’t? We can’t take that chance.” She stepped closer to him. “I’ll hold the fort. So _get your team, Alec._ ”

“In thirty minutes.” Alec held up a hand when Lydia opened her mouth to protest. “I’m your co-Head leader in this Institute, Lydia. I can’t just up and leave my people.”

“I know. I want you to though.” She said softly.

“And I’m grateful.” Alec replied.

The Institute was empty, all the Shadowhunters apparently outside, and as soon as they exited the building, the racket was deafening. There was a horde of Forsakens and not a single Circle member in sight. It made Alec’s skin crawl and having fought one himself, he knew there was bound to be a lot of casualties and injuries on his side.

Straightaway, his eyes searched for Jace, Izzy and Clary and he spotted them struggling a few feet away struggling, outnumbered by four to three. He angled his seraph blade away from himself then grabbed a hold of his bow and started shooting.

“Valleria, Andri! Get inside and handle things from there.” Lydia barked from beside him at the top of the steps. “Harry, N _iñ_ a, protect from the sides. Alejandro, Blake, don’t stray. Everyone, stick together! Do not separate from the others.”

Alec reached for another arrow and found his quiver empty. He swore, discarded his bow and quiver by the nook beside the Institute’s entrance, and twirled his seraph blade. “I’m going in.” He told Lydia when he passed by her.

“I’m coming.”

They separated at the end of the steps, going over to different directions. Alec made a beeline for his siblings and Clary, slicing off the head of a Forsaken that was about to cut into the redhead. He grunted at the effort and kicked the deadweight away from them all. The heavy axe it carried fell to the floor, its’ loud _thud_ lost in the battle’s clamour.

“Thanks.”

Alec shook his head and focused back on his task. His body moved automatically, used to fighting, and he was skilfully dispatching Forsaken after Forsaken, completely driven, alongside his siblings’ and Clary’s barrage of attacks. He found the best way to eliminate was by decapitating, gruesome as it was, and he did it swiftly, repetitively and without pause every time he found an opening. He needed to finish this quickly to get to Magnus.

“Alec!”

Instinctively, Alec forced himself to the side and saw from his peripheral view Jace cutting down a Forsaken he had neglected to see. He steadied himself and went back-to-back with his parabatai. Much like before, his body moved automatically but this time, in sync with Jace. His pabaratai rune hummed weakly.

Fifteen minutes had passed and the Shadowhunters still standing were getting sluggish, their runes burning brightly. The sky had opened, releasing a torrent of rain from dark ominous clouds. Visibility was ruined, the water made everything slippery, and there had been no end to the horde of Forsakens. Difficult as it was to kill them, it was becoming impossible to do so with the current circumstance and their tired sore bodies. More grunts and shouts of pain filled the air now than earlier and Alec felt an oncoming dread settle in him, the realisation of the possibility of them losing this battle dawning upon him.

“AH!” Clary’s voice cut clear through his being.

Alec aggressively shoved off the nearest Forsaken to give himself the time to check Clary for injuries. She lay writhing in pain on the floor, her seraph blade loose from her hold, and her mouth opened in a silent scream. A haggard Izzy was standing over her, protective and bloody.

“FALL BACK!” Lydia screamed. “FALL BACK!”

“Shit. Shit. Shit!” Jace swore loudly, his previously smooth movements were erratic. He was losing focus.

Alec returned to his low stance and blocked the blows coming their way. “Jace, bring Clary into the Institute.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“ _Jace_.” Alec allowed a hint of pleading to his tone, knowing his parabatai was never able to disagree whenever he did. “Take Izzy with you.” He grabbed Jace’s seraph blade away and threw himself into the fray once more. It seemed infinitely easier and harder to use two weapons at the same time. On one hand, he could land blows more easily – though less accurately – but on the other hand, there were more Forsakens going for him than he could handle.

“ALEC! FALL BACK!” Lydia sounded desperate and scared. He could definitely relate. “ALEC!”

“ _Angels_.” Alec staggered back against a particularly heavy bat ramming against his seraph blade. He pulled back and found himself unable to. His blade was embedded deep into the wooden bat. “Shit.” He let go but it was too late.

Another Forsaken swung an axe down on him and it was all he could do to use the other seraph blade to parry the attack whilst taking the weight and landing on the ground bodily. He grunted in pain. The Forsaken kept the pressure on the axe and Alec knew he was done for when the bat that still had his seraph blade in its depths took aim for his vulnerable body.

“ALEC!”

And like the angel that they all descended from, Lydia was there. Her seraph blade hit the bat with so much strength that the Forsaken let it go so that it swung in an arc up and away from them and she proceeded to duke it out away from him. He was thankful for about a second before the axe he was holding off tried to hit him from a different angle and he had to do a side tumble away.

He wasn’t fast enough and a guttural groan of pain released from his throat when the axe landed on his shoulder. His face paled in the same second from the close reality of him losing his arm and he jerked away in a futile movement. His head hit the floor and he knew he no longer had any escape. The axe pressed harder and he bit back a scream.

A stormy blue electric wisp dominated his view unexpectedly.

Alec gasped out a choke when the pressure on his shoulder was alleviated and slowly raised his seraph blade, unsure of what was happening around him. He tried to wave the blue storm before him away but to no avail.

Howls erupted from all sides and he imagined that the werewolves had come to help as well. Relief poured over him as well as shame for his incompetence to see this battle through to victory. He had failed his people, his siblings and himself. His head swam and he upchucked before he unwillingly succumbed to the dark.

 

*~*~*~*

 

Magnus burst through the infirmary doors, his long unbuttoned coat flowed behind him like a majestic cape. In his arms was Alexander, the boy’s right shoulder dangerously dangled from the unconscious body. Blood ran in rivulets from the Shadowhunter down Magnus’ expensive clothes but he barely winced.

He strode towards the nearest unoccupied bed and carefully set down the boy whilst staring at Alexander’s twisted face. Sweat poured over every inch of sickly pale skin and the boy was shivering, his body no doubt trying hard to repair the damages. Even so, the boy was beautiful.

Isabelle and Jace ran up with horror etched upon their faces and they simultaneously set to work drawing the necessary runes on Alexander’s body. Lydia sidled up, barely able to stand, and did the same.

“I’m sorry.” Lydia said sorrowfully. “There were so many Forsakens and he tried to take them alone. I wasn’t able to do enough to prevent him from getting injured. I’m sorry.”

Isabelle shook her head. “My brother is a warrior.” She said proudly albeit wetly.

“He’s not dead.” Blondie said tersely. “He fought against a group of those damn Forsakens and got away with an injury.” The pride was there and also something else, something akin to love.

It was a tone Magnus had heard many times over with the numerous parabatais he got to know over the centuries. A tone he knew meant only deep platonic love and it was that tone exactly why he had decided to pursue Alexander. Because he knew the boy’s infatuation wouldn’t be reciprocated.

Yet earlier he had a glimpse into the parabatais and their shows of affection, the confessions of love and extended embrace, and he realised painfully what Alexander must be going through. How hard it must be to be smitten with someone that loved you so deeply but platonically so that any affection given would leave one aching and desperately believing that there was hope for more, for romantic love.

To take off the blindfold and face the harsh cold reality would most likely be as excruciatingly, heart-numbingly painful as it was for Magnus when he finally let go of Camille Belcourt.

“Thanks, man.” And there Blondie was, using those captivating golden eyes to meet his gaze.

Magnus shook his head. “It’s Alexander.” He knew it was answer enough and he also knew it was an answer that evoked a more significant kind of understanding with the Blondie parabatai. His attention switched when Alexander groaned on the bed and he allowed his fingers to lightly curl out of unruly damp hair over to the shoulder. Sparks of magic flowed into the trauma, easing away the pain and he was pleased to see that the blood had already clotted.

The bed shook and he spared a glance over to the cause. Lydia was slumped over the metal frame of the doss, her arms shaking from the effort it took to keep herself upright. “Lydia, go rest. I’m sure Isabelle and Jace can handle the Institute while the Heads are recuperating.”

Right away, as if to support his claim, they grabbed each of Lydia’s arm and helped her over to another bed. He watched them – mostly Blondie – use their steles to draw up runes onto Lydia’s body similar to what they had done for Alexander. When they finished, Isabelle came back to hold her brother’s hand and Jace went over to Clary, giving an awkward smile to her, Jocelyn and Luke.

Magnus let his eyes wander around the room, at the many incapacitated Shadowhunters, and thought back to the dead Nephilim that had littered the Institute’s front grounds. He knew exactly how close he had cut it with the time he arrived and Alexander’s demise. Anger roared in his gut and he fisted his hands, palms sweaty – from earlier when he first saw Alexander’s arm close to being hacked off – and sticky from blood.

“That’s it.” He muttered darkly and with finality. Alexander shifted and his eyes landed back onto the angelic face. Possessiveness and envy twisted his heart like a knife. The boy’s thick eyelashes fluttered then those gorgeous hazel eyes blinked hazily up at him.

“Magnus…”

The voice was hoarse and weak, it made Magnus wince. “Sleep, Alexander. You’re safe now.”

“I’m with you.”

Magnus furrowed his brows a little in confusion and he ran his hand through the boy’s damp hair. He released his magic through the pads of his fingers and let it seep into the boy’s mind, making Alexander fall back into a deep slumber.

“What do you mean by ‘that’s it’?” Isabelle asked from her perch across from him.

“Dear Isabelle –,”

“Izzy.” The young Lightwood corrected shortly.

“Izzy.” Magnus gave a small smile and he reached out to take her hand in his when he noticed the ring on his hand glowing and pulsating red. He froze. “ _Raphael_.” He made a strangled sound and whipped his whole body around to signal to Luke.

“Whose ring is that?” Clary’s voice demanded sharply. “And where are you going?”

It was unnecessary. The alpha werewolf was already walking over, question in his eyes. The Frays and Blondie’s eyes were all locked onto the man’s ring.

“What’s going on?” Isabelle questioned.

“Nothing.” Magnus said without missing a beat. He winced when he heard Luke’s rough reply of –

“It’s Downworlder business.”

– and glanced to see the reaction.

Clary looked like she had been slapped. “Is that what we are now? Strangers divided by race?” She shook away her mother’s pacifying hand. “We can help!”

“What is it?” Isabelle sidled up to his side and touched his arm with a hint of concern.

“You can’t.” Luke replied pointedly as he eyed the injured Shadowhunters. “Whatever it is, we Downworlders will take care of it ourselves like usual.”

Magnus placed his hand on Isabelle’s shoulder. “Take care of Alexander for me, will you?” He requested cryptically then let go and hurried to the exit. Luke bolted after him with Clary shouting at his back.

“That’s not fair! What happened to family?!”

The infirmary closed behind them, muffling the youngest Fray’s screams. It was a short reprieve as they realised footsteps were pursuing them.

“What is going on?” Isabelle demanded from behind, repeating her earlier words. “ _Where_ are you both hurrying off to?”

“Nowhere.” Luke replied, neither of them slowing in their haste out of the Institute.

“Clearly.”

Magnus was slightly surprised to hear Blondie’s sarcastic voice. He guessed that only Isabelle would run after them. “It’s really nothing but if you insist on delaying us, it’ll turn into _something_.” He replied without any context whatsoever and threw the entrance doors open. His hand shot out to open a portal. “Luke, call your werewolves. I’ll meet you there.” He took a step then paused and pivoted on the spot. “You two, don’t follow me.”

They both raised their brows, disturbingly in sync.

“Why not?” Isabelle challenged.

Blondie glared in agreement.

Magnus fought the urge to roll his eyes. He knew that it would irritate Blondie to no end to not be _in the know_ and he was frankly feeling petty enough to trigger the annoyance despite the camaraderie that had bloomed between them. Poor Isabelle would have to suffer with her brother, however.

He shot magic out to the Shadowhunters' feet, aware that a few werewolves were already going through his portal, and smirked when they tried to move and failed. “You can only go back into the Institute. The spell will lift once the portal closes.”

“You said _Raphael_.” Isabelle accused.

“Alec’s injured and you’re going over to see _Raphael_?” Blondie fumed.

“There’s nothing more I can do for Alexander at the moment.” Magnus frowned. “I have other duties to attend to, _important_ Downworlder duties, that you’d do well to remember. Not everything is about the Nephilim.” He didn’t spare them another second and proceeded into the portal.

Straight off, it was clear the situation at The Dumort wasn’t as dire as he had been dreading. There were a number of vampires, Forsakens and Circle members on the ground as well as broken furniture and destroyed fixtures that hinted at the violence beforehand but otherwise, the battle was at its end.

His glowing cat eyes dilated to be able to take in the largest amount of light it could and he promptly sought ought Raphael. He allowed his eyes to roam through the stunning scene before him of werewolves and vampires working together in a fashion he thought would only exist in dreams and imaginations. Then, across the room by the open archway leading to the ballroom irritably dodging seraph blades, he saw the Clan leader.

He narrowed his eyes and focused at a singular point then snapped his fingers. Blue sparks crackled by Raphael’s hand and the Bundeswehr advanced combat knife that his old friend had practically claimed his own materialised. His lips tugged into a pleased smirk when Raphael incontinently started fighting back with the dagger.

The scene reminded Magnus of the weakness Downworlders had when unprepared for a fight. It was that they carried no weapons unlike the Nephilim. They relied on themselves and what they had; their abilities and powers. Few of them ever carried any sort of tool that could be used in a hostile situation. He would have to bring that up for discussion sometime soon with the other leaders.

Raphael shouted.

Magnus was pulled out of his thoughts to see that Raphael had his head brought back, dagger outstretched, and by his feet were the Circle members. He swept the room and observed that the fatal combination of werewolves and vampires had brought down the Forsakens and Circle members at an incredibly fast pace so that there were barely any left.

Beside him, his portal let slip another person.

“The offensive is over.”

Luke’s eyes were a startling green. “Finally.” The werewolf eyes retreated. “You left Alec’s siblings very pissed off.”

Magnus shrugged.

“They really aren’t happy.”

“Did they ask you to send the message?”

Luke snorted then nodded.

“Consider it delivered.” Magnus started forwards. “Call Praetor, let’s have that meeting now.”

 

*~*~*~*

 

“The cause of the assault is unambiguous.”

“I agree.” Magnus examined his nails.

Raphael glowered from his perch by the bar. “How did they breach the wards?”

“I’ll have to examine the bodies first to confirm but,” Magnus met his friend’s gaze. “Valentine’s been known to play with Downworlder blood.”

“He used the same method to breach the Institute before to get to Hodge.”

“So then, that begs the question of why the Institute _wasn’t_ breached this time around.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Magnus rolled his eyes at Praetor. He stood and sauntered over to the back of the couch he had sat on. “What did you believe the assault to be? A simple act to weaken us? A show of force?”

Praetor raised a brow.

“ _We_ were the targets, gentlemen.” Magnus trailed his fingers over the top of the glass box that showcased a variety of weapons and jewellery. “The Circle members were there for no other reason than to kill us. Valentine knows we are the pillars of the Downworld and he wants us dead. The Institute was given Forsakens so they won’t come to our aid though,” He met Luke’s eyes. “It was too excessive for the already depleted number of Shadowhunters they have.”

“The Nephilim are the weakest link of the alliance. If the demon activity keeps at its level, there will be no Shadowhunter left to assist us in destroying Valentine and the ship.” Raphael tsked. “We have lost many today. Should Valentine repeat this offensive in the following days, our numbers will be decimated.”

“Are you proposing what we declared stupidity not even a day ago?” Praetor’s voice rose.

“I am _proposing_ ,” Raphael hissed. “That we –,”

“Praetor.” Magnus interrupted. He stared his old friend down before shifting his gaze to the one he had addressed. “Today has fulfilled what you had said. That we must lose first to lessen the total lost. We have lost already. It is time we make our move or we will risk losing more.”

“What say you, Luke?” Praetor inquired.

“I say we get ready to strike tomorrow night.”

“I will second that.” Magnus nodded to the pack leader.

“And the Nephilim?” Raphael set his glass of Bloody Mary down. “They will not recover fully by tomorrow.”

“You have declared them a liability.” Magnus said strongly, his eyes twinkling. “Therefore, they will take the minor role. We shall alert them when we are halfway through slaughtering the Circle.”

Praetor sighed heavily. “Are we all amenable to this change in plans?”

“The New York werewolf pack will be ready.”

“So will the Clan be.”

Magnus played with his ring. “Let’s convene at the Jade Wolf by nightfall.”

Everyone nodded their assent.

“Is there anything else?” Raphael queried. “I must get back to my people.”

A few moments of silence passed before Magnus replied a simple, “no.”

“Then, I’ll see you all by nightfall tomorrow.”

“Raphael.” Magnus called out, effectively halting his old friend in his steps. “The warlocks will be a message away should you need them.”

“ _Amigo_.” Raphael murmured before leaving the room.

 

*~*~*~*

 

The door swung open and woke Alec from his more shallow slumber. He realised upon opening his eyes that he was no longer at the infirmary. Rather, he was in his dark room and his siblings were scattered about.

His gaze was magnetised to the newcomer and his heart skipped a beat at seeing Magnus enter. He quickly closed his eyes halfway and discreetly buried deeper into his blanket, wanting to hear how his siblings and Magnus conversed without him. Unexpectedly, he felt his hand being enclosed around a ring-clad one and he wondered whether his parabatai or sister had explained the misunderstanding from the morning for him.

“So, you’re back.”

“So I am, Blondie.”

“I’m surprised you came back for Alec after you made it clear your duties were more important.”

Magnus rubbed his forehead, looking worryingly peaked. “I didn’t imply anything of that sort. Besides, he has _you_ here, doesn’t he?”

Alec frowned. No one had explained then.

“Tell us what really happened earlier.” Izzy said softly. “Why did you and Luke have to go see Raphael so urgently?”

Alec’s frown deepened and his jealousy came to life with a vengeance when he felt Magnus’ hand slip away. He fought the urge to tug it back into his hold.

“There was a situation at the Dumort we had to handle.”

“You couldn’t just tell us that from the start?” Jace bristled irritably.

Magnus tsked. “What happened to _you_ , Blondie?”

Alec raised his brows to peer up from his blanket curiously. His jealousy flared upon seeing Magnus capture Jace’s chin to inspect his parabatai’s half-swollen and bruised face. He itched for his stele, desiring nothing more than to iratze the hell out of his brother so that the two would have no reason to be so close to each other.

Jace waved away the hand. “In case you forgot, I also fought against the Forsakens.” He deadpanned.

“And here I was about to kindly heal you.”

Alec furrowed his brows, utterly bewildered by how differently his parabatai and boyfriend were acting from the last time he saw both of them together. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen them interact after Jace came back with Magnus’ help. “Hah.” He smothered his chuckle under the thick cloth cocooning him when Jace desperately grabbed Magnus’ hand.

“Do it!” Jace implored. “I can’t have Clary see me like this. Now that I know she’s not my sister, I have to impress her with my good looks again!”

“Wha –,” Magnus started.

Isabelle shrieked, coincidentally covering up Alec’s gasp. “JACE LIGHTWOOD. EXPLAIN YOURSELF.”

Magnus stepped back with palms raised, physically and symbolically removing himself from Jace’s vicinity and Isabelle’s wrath.

Alec could relate.

“I talked to Jocelyn earlier when Clary was sleeping.”

“You mean you finally grew a pair and asked Jocelyn to confirm what Clary’s been _trying_ to tell you for days now after she took up the courage to ask?” Isabelle snarked.

Alec sighed softly, unhappy to find out how much he’s been missing out on with his siblings’ lives. He jerked when a soft hand caressed his face and smiled bashfully up at Magnus who winked at him. The tension seeped out of his shoulders and he leaned into the touch happily.

“Hello, darling.”

Two words. Just two whispered words and Alec’s world narrowed to accomodate only the warlock before him. “ _Magnus_.” He whispered back fervently and captured the hand on his face to brush his lips over the soft fingers, a waft of the warlock’s sweet scent cloaked him.

“You should rest.”

Alec nodded then felt his eyes drooping again. It took less than a second for him to fall back to sleep.

 

*~*~*~*

 

Despite whatever magic Magnus had used to make Alec sleep, there he was at quarter to eleven the next morning sat at his desk, ignoring the disapproving glances Lydia decided to bestow upon him during the time it took her to move on from one task to the next, buzzed with too much caffeine and sporting red-rimmed eyes. And, with his shoulder aching.

He knew it was stupid to have pulled an all-nighter when he wasn’t completely healed yet but he couldn’t help it. The urge to check how much work was waiting for him when he woke was too much and he had reasoned with himself that knowing would better inform him on what time he should set his alarm for in the morning. Of course, when he saw the piles of paperwork atop his desk, it had made his adrenaline level shoot up rendering him completely wide awake and unable to resist finishing off his load.

On the plus side, he was down to five more reports for the day and all before noon. On the other hand, he could have definitely finished his work on time even if he had slept and foregone his all-nighter – in short, he could have lived with listening to Magnus.

Magnus.

He really wanted to see the warlock and explain… Explain away. He had been nursing the itching desire to see Magnus all night through to the morning and he was nearing his limit. It almost felt like he was an addict needing a fix. Not that he would know what an addict felt like on the inside but he guessed Magnus was a close equivalent to an addiction.

Alexander Gideon Lightwood, the addict.

Alec’s eyes widened at his own thoughts and he promptly let go of the pen he held to better shove his face into his hands with a loud groan. He heard Lydia snort beside him and wanted to cast her a glare. Unfortunately, he made the mistake of resting for a second. His body now refused to move and all his mind was thinking about was soft clouds.

Clouds wherein he could rest and feel at ease. The kind of peace only the warlock could give him.

What would Izzy say to him if she knew what was going on in his mind? _You’re... whipped_ , was it? _Whipped._ Funny word. What did it mean in that context? A giggle left him and he immediately clamped his mouth shut by biting hard onto his bottom lip. Sadly, Lydia had heard him as she smothered a laugh.

“Go rest, Alec. You can finish those after dinner.”

In a move very un-like him, Alec collapsed onto his table – careful with his right shoulder – and moaned loudly, nearly whining.

“Seriously.” Lydia rolled her eyes. Alec couldn’t see her but she definitely rolled her eyes. He _just knew_. “Go see the love of your life, get your fix and rest until your shoulder no longer hurts. Then – _and only then_ – do I want to see you back in this office.”

“Mmmhf mmhfmm. Mmmhfmm mmhhhf… Mmm.”

“I have no idea what you’re trying to say.” Lydia said, her voice shaking with ill-concealed laughter. “I’m calling Magnus to come pick you up, big baby.”

“Mmmhfmm mmm. Mmm.” Alec replied indignantly. He flapped his hand in Lydia’s direction, _thump thump_ sounds made by slamming his hand floppily on the hard wood, in protest. “Mmmhfmmm.” He unstuck his face from the desk to lay his cheek down sideways. “Magnus.” He said rather petulantly.

In all honesty, Alec didn’t know what the hell he was trying to say anymore.

Lydia visibly rolled her eyes, a phone apparently already by her ear. “Hello Magnus. Are you busy?”

“Magnus.” Alec exclaimed. At least he tried to. His voice fell flat from lack of energy though certainly not from lack of excitement. He was full of enthusiasm on the inside, his heart hammering as it used up whatever strength he had left. “Magnus.”

“Not exactly.” Lydia chuckled. “It’s not for the Institute.”                                                                                                                          

“Maaagnus.”

“Yes, that’s Alec.”

Alec perked up. Trust Magnus to be able to hear him even through a phone that was far away from him. “Mag _nus_.” He repeated with much gusto.

“He’s out of it from lack of sleep.”

“Mmmuuu.”

Lydia rolled her eyes _again_ and Alec frowned because that was _his_ thing. Why was she picking up his _thing_? He giggled again as that sentence had the quality Magnus looked for when it came to cracking silly innuendos. “Magnus is mine.” He declared with a deep pout.

“He’s all yours.” Lydia’s blue eyes seemed to glow into a dark purple.

It took Alec an embarrassing half a minute before he realised that Lydia’s eyes didn’t change colour and that the purple originated from the portal that had come into existence in the middle of the office. He stared at it dumbly, his brain taking its sweet time to decipher what that swirling vortex meant when out came his beautiful, glittery and mind-blowingly gorgeous Magnus.

… _his_?

“Oh, Alexander.”

Alec smiled sappily, his mind further turning into mush at the sight of the warlock. His future boyfriend. “Magnus is mine.” He yawned.

Lydia sniggered.

Magnus on the other hand raised a brow, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Of course, darling. Now, what did I say about resting?”

The pout on Alec’s face earlier came back in full force with the horrifying added effect of tears that had gathered in his eyes from his yawn. “Magnus.” He said. There was little doubt in his mind that he answered the question correctly. That was always the right answer, wasn’t it?

What little sanity Alec had left in him persuaded him to shut his mouth. He groaned instead.

This time, Magnus laughed in amusement. “Alright, Alexander, come with me.”

Alec nodded as much as he could which meant he skidded his face downwards with a loud squeak as his skin rubbed against the wooden desk before he closed his eyes and unceremoniously fell asleep.

 

*~*~*~*

 

“Ah.” Was Magnus’ only response to the slumbering form of the Shadowhunter sprawled atop the worn-out desk. A desk he dearly wanted to replace into a table more polished and aesthetically appeasing to the eye. Perhaps he would ask Alexander it next time.

“Do you need help carrying him over to yours?”

Magnus looked over his shoulder to smirk. “Why so eager to rid yourself of my darling?”

“I’m not.” Lydia smirked herself. “But he’s been mumbling your name for the whole morning before he got like that,” She pointed. “And I’m honestly sick of hearing your name by this point. Sorry.”

How she shrugged unapologetically afterwards only made her that much more endearing.

“All morning, hm?” Magnus hummed, pleased. He allowed his fingers to spark a dark blue, his magic curling around Alexander’s exhausted body to lift away any leftover muscle pain and fatigue from the day before. “When will he be needed back here?”

“Take your time.” Lydia waved her hand dismissively. “You can bring him back anytime you want.”

“He’s done for the day?” The sparks died off and Magnus smoothed his hand down Alexander’s nape to around his shoulder. He bent down and slid his arm under the boy’s knees and, with a little help from his magic, perfectly arranged the Shadowhunter to rest on his chest as he carried the boy bridal-style.

“He barely has any work left from what I can tell. I can finish it off for him.”

Magnus slowly shifted to face the portal and gave the Head of the Institute he wasn’t currently carrying a sideways glance. “Very well.” He said softly before moving towards his portal with light steps.

The loft was a dark sombre picture. The curtains were all drawn, as was usual since the fledgling had come to live with him along with Raphael’s constant presence in his loft, not a single light was on and all the glittery decorations he had reluctantly begun yesterday morning were half-done.

He flicked his finger.

All the lights in the living room lit up with a warm glow, the curtains that covered the balcony doors lifted up then twisted away for an unimpeded view and a pit sectional couch popped into existence before it. Upon seeing the crowded room, a few sparks touched upon the other couches to make them vanish.

Magnus sauntered over to his new couch and kneeled down on the soft leather material. He crawled to the very corner and gingerly deposited the Shadowhunter down. His muscles strained in the confines of his cashmere V-neck sweater that he was silently grateful of wearing as his silk shirts would have ripped by now.

He plopped himself down to pull Alexander’s slumbering form to his chest and carded his hand once again through the boy’s hair. The bangs, he noticed, were slightly curled and somehow adorable as it framed the aristocratic handsome face.

Alexander moaned in his sleep and snuggled closer, one of his loosely fisted hand came up to lay itself on the warlock’s chest while the other hand wrapped around the cashmere-clothed arm. The boy craned his head up to burrow his face into the copper neck before halting his movements.

“Sleep well.” Magnus laid a kiss on the boy’s forehead with a smile on his lips and his eyes closed. His heart fluttered when the Shadowhunter mumbled and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck. “I love you, Alexander.” He whispered ardently.

Outside, the first snowfall delicately cascaded from the sky to coat the city in white.

**Author's Note:**

> Advanced Happy Holidays! Please do consider this my gift for the end of this year and the start of the next!
> 
> I am leaving tomorrow for vacation soooo, yes, what I'm saying is there will be another long wait... We'll all be busy being merry though, right? Hehehe... It'll be a very exciting next chapter!
> 
> Leave a comment, press the kudos button and come chat with me on [tumblr](http://maztri.tumblr.com/).


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